Prasant of TJ Maxx
by Dana the Wonderful
Summary: This light-hearted, but rather dramatic Phantom paradoy was written for a good friend of mine and is actually derived from real life events, as scary as that sounds! Please Read & Review!
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note

Before you begin reading this story of mystery, love and utter lunacy, I would like to clarify a few points.  First off, I wrote this story, which is derived from real life, for my good friend Allison.  It is a parody of _The Phantom of the Opera_ (both Gaston Leroux's book and A.L. Webber's play) and I in no way claim ownership of the original idea.  I would also like to take this chance to give credit to the rightful person for several direct quotations/excerpts/dialogue or variations of these excerpts you may notice throughout the story.  Ok, now that that's said . . .

The characters in this story are based off *real* people and (mostly) real events.  In order for this story to make a bit more sense to someone outside my little group of friends, I feel the need to further explain a few things.  Bare with me, it's for your own sake!  I'll try to be brief . . .

**Allison** met Prasant at TJ Maxx one night when they were both working.  She met Will awhile afterwards at one of the philosophy meetings we went to during the summer.   She's currently dating Prasant and very close friends with Will.  Some (myself included) would argue she's almost _too_ close at times, but that's ok and we all forgive her for it.  Allison is also into music in a very big way, especially Nine Inch Nails.

**Will** is a good buddy of mine as you might already know… he's been mentioned several times throughout this site.  He's a big, loving, self-proclaimed Canadian pimp of the universe.  If it seems I'm exceptionally cruel to him, it's called tough love.  ;)  

**Prasant, **who will be playing our mysterious phantom, is exactly that.  I've met him once, and very briefly at that.  I've written this story based on what little I know of him.  He's tall, thin, and rather cute if I do say so myself, but sadly, he's got what we call low self-esteem.  It's really quite sad.  In fact, when I was recently watching the play _The Phantom of the Opera, _specifically the scene in which the Phantom is first unmasked and crawling about on the floor, I was suddenly reminded of dear Prasant.  I leaned over to tell my friend Amanda (who is mentioned in the story as well) of my thoughts, and we burst into laughter (much to the disturbance of the people around us).  The concept was far to great to pass up, and thus, _Prasant of TJ Maxx_ was born.

Quickly on **MTSU** (Middle Tennessee State University)… Prasant left TJ Maxx in the fall to go to this fine school and Allison and I will be joining him come fall 2003.  This has relevance, I promise.

Thanks for your time and attention!  And now, without further delay, **_Prasant of TJ Maxx!_**

Chapter One


	2. Prasant 1

Prasant of TJ Maxx 

-Dana Owens-

  


Chapter One

Saturday afternoons at TJ Maxx are nearly always busy and marked by huge crowds, as many know.  The air seems almost alive with the buzz of the mid-day shoppers searching frantically for that perfect, low-priced item.  Employee's hurry to and fro to grant every possible wish of the customers.  There's not a moment to spare amidst the frantic rush of the consumers and suppliers.

This Saturday, which happened to fall during the exceptionally warm months of late summer, was no exception.  A full staff of trusted and experienced employees were placed on the floor and kept very busy.   Each of them were vital in their own way to the inexpensive fashion-supplying machine that is TJ Maxx.  Of course, some are more essential than others.

One example of such a staff member would be the fitting room attendant.  Such a task cannot be had by anyone of low valor, morale or social skill, and commands great respect, particularly on a busy afternoon.  

On this day, Meme, the beloved employee of the two wise and reputable managers, Mrs. Brock and Ms. Johnson, filled the required standards as fitting room attendant.  Meme was a shrewd, taunting and generally unkind person, but she had "common sense," as the managers put it.  As far as they were concerned, Meme was the only one able and worthy enough to work the dressing rooms.  Never before had they considered entrusting another with the colored number tags until the perplexing misfortunes of that day befell dear Meme.

She had only just finished organizing the massive clothing rack on which customers left their unwanted garments after trying them on.  When a small, pale child timorously approached the desk, Meme shot a cold glance down on him.

"What's in there?"  He asked with an inquisitiveness known only to small children.

"That's where people try on their clothes."  Meme replied dryly.

"Oh . . . What's that?"  The child pointed towards the telephone, which hung upon the wall.   

"A telephone."  Meme retorted, eying a suspicious looking woman at the far end of the dressing room.

"Oh.  What do these buttons do?"

"Bad things.  Don't touch them . . . Ma'am, please take that bra out of your purse."  She said, now turning her attention away from the child.

"Excuse me, Miss?"  An older woman inquired, placing herself directly in front of Meme.  "I have twelve things to try on, that's not a problem, is it?"                                   

As Meme fumbled for a tag, three adolescents ran giggling out of their dressing room, leaving a trail of clothes behind.

"Hey, could you hand me that shirt right there?"  A half-clothed man asked, peeking out of a dressing stall.

"Hello?"  The child said timidly into the phone.   He began to snicker as he heard his voice over the intercom throughout the store.

            Meme covered her face with her sweating palms, attempting to calm herself momentarily.  True, she was the only employee known to be capable of dealing with the demanding and often intolerable clientele of the fitting rooms, yet she couldn't help but begin to feel slightly perturbed with their trivial needs and demands.  

Just then a metallic moan emitted from the over-stuffed clothing rack.  Meme stood upright and turned around slowly.  The bars, already weighed down by the excessive number of garments, were sagging dangerously low.  She took a step towards them, wondering for the first time how much weight in clothing they could support.  As she puzzled, the rack began to lean forward, as if being pushed.  Unfortunately, by the time she perceived this, it was far too late, for the bars began to give way!

            "Look out!"  Someone shouted.

Meme dove towards the floor, covering her head with her arms as the immense rack came crashing down upon her with all the fury of Mount Vesuvius.

Chaos followed as people ran from the dressing room, panicked and shrieking.  

            "It's the Prasant Ghost!"  Cried Tiffany, a fellow TJ Maxx employee who had also been in the vicinity at the time of the catastrophe. 

            Ms. Johnson and Mrs. Brock rushed towards dressing rooms at the thunderous sound of the collapse.

            "What on earth . . .?"  Ms. Johnson viewed the scene with disbelief as Mrs. Brock began to dig through the mammoth pile of clothes.  She then joined her until the two women uncovered the top of Meme's head.

            "Meme!"  Ms. Johnson gasped.  They grabbed her by the shoulders and hoisted her from beneath the clothing.

            "Meme, are you all right?"  Mrs. Brock asked, distressed.

            Meme placed her hand on her forehead.  After a moment of inquisition, she reluctantly admitted her well-being. 

            "I cannot work under such conditions!"  She exclaimed after her recovery.  "For the past few months this cursed store has been plagued by mysterious happenings, and I will _not_ fall victim again!"

            "But Meme, who else will work the dressing room?  There is no one to replace you!"  Ms. Johnson pleaded.

            "The Devil if I know!"  Meme turned and marched defiantly out the store. 

            The two managers stood silent for a moment in incredulity.  

            "What will we do?"  Mrs. Brock questioned, knowing Ms. Johnson had no answer.

            Fortunately for the managers, Amanda and Dana had come to pay a visit to their dear friend Allison, who was also a TJ Maxx employee.  The two had overheard the conversation, and being the aggressively helpful people they were, decided to recommend Allison.

            "She can do it, she knows all about the dressing room!"  Amanda offered, pushing a somewhat unwilling Allison forward. 

            "Yes, for she has a mysterious new tutor who has taught her everything."  Dana added.

            The managers eyed Allison for a moment doubtfully.

            "The dressing rooms are very busy on Saturdays, how can we be sure you know what you are doing?"  Ms. Johnson inquired snidely. 

            "Yes, and who is this new tutor anyhow?"  Mrs. Brock pressed.

            "I-I don't know."  Allison looked down, reluctant to say more.

            "You don't know indeed!"  Ms. Johnson shot towards her.

            "Oh, but she does know!"

            "Yes, she knows all there is to know about the dressing rooms!"

            The managers watched the two blondes nod their heads eagerly.  They knew there was no one else.  Meme was their star; no other soul could take her place.  This Allison was certainly just as ill-suited as any other employee they would be forced to place here.

            "Oh, what could be the harm for one night?"  Mrs. Brock said with a sigh.

            "I hope, for your own sake, that you are indeed capable of tending to the fitting room on a day such as this."  Ms. Johnson said coldly to Allison.

            "I can do it."  Allison said, a surge of self-confidence washing over her.

            "We shall see."  Was the manager's reply.

Chapter Two


	3. Prasant 2

Chapter Two

Will strolled leisurely down the aisle, glancing every so often at an article of clothing that happened to catch his eye.  His brother Paul, who was younger, but by no means lacking in couth and maturity, followed behind.  The two were doing a bit of back-to-school shopping before the store closed for the evening.  Will carried an armload of clothing and was feeling rather satisfied with his final choices when he heard a familiar voice over the intercom.

"Five minutes until closing, please bring your final purchases to the front of the store so our associates may better assist you."  The female voice said.

Will looked about, somewhat bemused.  "That voice . . . Where have I heard that voice before?"           

"It was her," Paul said, pointing to a dark-haired girl in the dressing room, now hanging up the telephone.

Will watched the girl for a moment before a sudden recognition came to him.  "Could it be?  Is it her?"

"Is it who?"  Paul asked, looking perplexedly at Will.

"The girl from the philosophy meetings!  Allison!"  Will now turned towards Paul, grasping him by the shoulders with his massive hands. 

"How should I know?"  Paul shrugged, trying to make his lack of interest apparent.

            Will peered over the clothing racks, trying desperately to catch another glimpse of the girl.  

"It is!  It's her!"  He exclaimed.   "Allison!"

He made his way through the narrow aisles of the packed clothing racks towards her.  Unfortunately, the purses had not yet been organized and Will found himself tangled amidst the leather tendrils of the bags.  He fought frantically to free himself, but by the time he did, a large crowd of TJ Maxx employees had gathered around his original goal.  

As he shouldered his way through the throng of people, he heard only words of acclamation.

"Splendid job!"

"Meme couldn't have done better!"  came the praises.

"I must admit I surprised even myself!"  Allison blushed.

"Wherever did you acquire such knowledge of the fitting rooms?"  Tiffany, a friend of Allison's, inquired with a suspicious air.

"Allison!"  Will called out, still unable to reach her.

Allison caught a glimpse of him and smiled politely, but made no further attempt at conversing.  Hurt, Will withdrew into the crowd to wait for a more personal moment in which they could chat.  

He watched as she began to pick up various items from the floor, clean the stalls, sweep, and other such closing duties for the dressing room.  Gradually, the crowd began to disperse and Will approached Allison once more.

            "Allison, it is I, Will, from the philosophy meetings.  Do you remember me?"

            Allison smiled and nodded.  "Yes, I remember.  What a stimulating conversation we had!"

            "Indeed we did!  And do you know what?"  Will said, a large smile spreading across his face.  "I've been thinking about you ever since!"

            Allison held Will's warm gaze for a moment before she continued tidying up her area.

            "In fact, I think we should go out to Starbucks tonight once you've finished here."  Will stated confidently. 

            "Oh Will, I'd love to, but I can't.  There are other things I must do-"      "Nonsense!  It will only take a short while!"

            "No, Will, my tutor, he's very strict-"

            "Your tutor?"  Will said, amused.  "Don't be silly, Allison.  I'll be back once I pay for this," he motioned to the clothes he had picked out.  "and then we'll go!"

            Will did not wait for a reply as he dashed to the cash registers.  He was more then eager to initiate a close friendship with Allison, as he found her charming, intelligent and witty.  If only he could break through her seemingly cold exterior, he was sure they would be perfect for each other.

            Once he had paid for his clothes and sent Paul to wait in the minivan, he sauntered back to the dressing rooms.  He peered through the doorway, but couldn't see anyone.  Allison had apparently finished closing and turned out the lights. 

            "Allison?"  He called, but there was no reply.

            He crept into the dark space and looked about.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a moving figure.  He walked slowly into the ladies portion of the room where he saw Allison walking into the back stall.

            "There you are-" He stopped short when he noticed something queer about the way she moved, very slowly and deliberate, as if in a trance.  He began to walk towards her when he heard pulsing music emanating from inside the dressing room, which was now emitting a strange white glow.  After a moment he recognized the music as "Closer" by Allison's favorite band, Nine Inch Nails.  

She walked into the stall and the door closed slowly behind her. Will made a quick movement to grab it, but it closed before he could reach it.  He tugged on the handle only to discover it was securely locked.

            He was about to call out to her when he heard a strange, male voice.

            "You were glorious tonight my child!"  It said from inside the dressing room.

            Will stood motionless and listened intently.  Who was she talking to?

            "Thanks to you, my Angel of Dressing Rooms!"  Allison said passionately.

            "Oh Allison, say you love me!"

            Will gasped at this.  Did Allison have a lover he did not know about?

            "But how can you say that when all the tags I give out, all the rooms I clean, all the people I help . . . when I do it all for you!"

            "Then come with me Allison . . . come to me!"

            The soft, eerie music began to play once more, this time the song being "Hurt," also by Nine Inch Nails.  All was silent for a moment, save for the lamenting music, and Will's heart began to race.  What was happening?

            "Allison!"  He shouted through the door.  "Allison!" 

            He pulled frantically at the handle and banged against the door.  His shouts were barely audible over the now piercingly loud music.

            "Please Allison, open the door!"

            He stepped back several paces and charged the door in a final act of desperation.  He threw his massive Canadian body against the small door and it immediately gave way with the force of his weight.

            He stumbled into the dressing room just in time to witness Allison actually walk_ into_ the mirror that hung on the wall!

            "Allison?"  He cried, running towards the mirror.  Alas, whatever mystical portal had existed through the mirror was now closed, as Will discovered when he ran directly into it.

            He fell to his knees, cupping his hands around his nose that now bled profusely.  Before he grew short of breath and fainted from the pain, he managed to feebly sob her name.

            "Allison . . ." 

Chapter Three


	4. Prasant 3

Yes, this is a parody of the theme song from POTO.  Now wouldn't it be nice to sing along with a MIDI?  Well, if you were to go to my website, you'd find one for this very purpose.  Just look under the stories section! ;)

Chapter Three

**Allison:**

At work he gave to me

A burned CD

Nirvana, Sound Garden

Tool and Journey . . .

I'm in a state of bliss

As music moans . . .

Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-

In my headphones

**Prasant:**

Hear once again for me

These MP3's

I want to share with you

My expertise . . .

Don't worry you will hear

No Davy Jones . . .

Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-

In your headphones

**Allison:**

You say you're hideous

But that I doubt

I always think of you

**Prasant:**

Day in, day out . . .

**Both:**

Your/My CD's and my/your songs

Make lovely tones . . .

Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-

In your/my headphones

**Voices:         **

He's there, Prasant of TJ Maxx

Beware, Prasant of TJ Maxx

**Prasant:**

In all your time spent here

You never guessed

That my heart longed for you

**Allison:**

I must confess . . .

**Both:**

And in this clothing store

'Mongst simple drones

Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-

In your/my headphones

**Prasant:**

Listen, My Angel of Dressing Rooms!

**Allison:**

He's there.

Prasant of TJ Maxx . . .

            The consuming music pumped through the wires of the headphones and into Allison's ears as she was lead into the mysterious underbelly of TJ Maxx.  She was only vaguely aware of the dank air that clung to her face, the cold, bony hand that held her own, and even the blackness that threatened to engulf her.   

            The cloaked figure that lead her held a flashlight whose illumination was hardly adequate for the seemingly impenetrable darkness.  He moved quickly though the maze of storage rooms, down several flights of stairs and finally to an underground lake whose waters were still and black.  He gently set his beloved charge into his boat; careful not to remove the headphones he had placed over her ears.

            He rowed the boat swiftly across the lake towards the doorway on the opposite side.    Allison began to stir as the boat made contact with a set of narrow, stone stairs which rose from the still, ebony depths.

            The figure lifted Allison once again and carried her with little effort up the staircase.  As she became more aware of the present situation, she began to struggle and cried aloud, but suddenly grew silent.  He had set her down in the middle of a comfortable, pleasantly bright living room. 

            She looked bewilderingly about for a moment before settling her gaze on the man dressed all in black, save for a white mask, standing before her.

            "Don't be afraid, Allison; you are in no danger."

            Allison gasped; it was the voice, her tutor!

            She ran towards him and tried to snatch away his mask, eager to learn the identity of her mysterious mentor.

            "No!"  He said firmly, but noticeably alarmed.  "You must never touch my mask!"

            He grasped her gently by the wrists, forcing her into a chair, and then knelt down before her.  His humility renewed Allison's sense of courage, but she could not hold back tears of confusion, joy and anger.

Upon seeing them, the figure cried, "It is true, Allison!  I am not an Angel, nor a ghost . . . I am Prasant!"

"The Prasant Ghost . . ." Allison muttered in disbelief.  Could it be that her wondrous tutor and the strange phantom that plagued the store were one and the same?

"Yes, it is I.  I have been the one to cause all the mysteries of TJ Maxx!"

"You were the one who caused the accident in the dressing room . . ."

"Yes, but it was for you!  I had taught you everything about the fitting rooms, all you needed was an opportunity to present your new and glorious talent!  And did you not receive praise?  Were you not better then anyone could have anticipated?"

"Well, yes . .  ."

"Then won't you forgive me Allison?  I did it all out of love!  Yes, love!  Would you not do the same?"  Prasant pleaded.  "Every night I taught you, I watched you.  How it pained me!  I wanted nothing more then to be with you!  I could not stand the pain another moment; I had to bring you here with me!  Oh, Allison, forgive me!  I would do anything for you!  Just promise me you will never leave!"

            "I could do no such thing!"  Allison said, stunned by his outpour.

            "But you must!  I brought you here for love and here you must stay!"  He began to cry out of desperation.  "It is all out of the deepest and most tragic of love!  The love I have for you!"

            "I could only despise you if you imprisoned me against my will!"  Allison said, standing.

            Prasant was silent for a moment before he stood as well, reminding Allison that he was not an angel or a ghost, but her tutor which she had grown to love and trust.

            "There is your liberty then, through that door.  You see?  I would do anything for you, Allison, even deny myself true happiness."

            Allison turned and walked towards the exit, but just then, she heard the haunting voice of Tori Amos being played behind her.  She stopped and turned back to Prasant. 

            "Come," Prasant beckoned her.  "I have an entire compilation of new songs I know you'd love to hear."

            Allison slowly walked over to Prasant and joined him by his stereo.  He played for her numerous tracks from the CD's he had made with her in mind.  As the night wore on, Allison was lulled to sleep by the soothing choruses of the music.

            When she awoke, Allison found herself in a large, plush bed.  She could hear various songs in fragmented pieces playing in the next room.  Her curiosity aroused, she wandered into the room where Prasant sat at a computer, his back turned to her.  He was so involved in the downloading of new songs for his next CD, that he did not notice her creep up behind him.

            Allison listened to bits of the familiar songs as he masterfully arranged them on the play list.  Her gaze moved slowly from the computer screen to his masked face.  What was underneath?  What could he be hiding?  The urge to rip the mask from his face became almost unbearable.  With a movement she was all but unable to control, her fingers swiftly snatched the mask away from his face.

            Just then a superhuman cry of rage and grief emitted from the depths of his very being.  She stumbled backwards, dropping the mask.  She raised her hand to shield herself from what she was sure would be a horrible sight, but stopped when he whipped around to face her. 

            "How could you?"  He roared.  "You little fool!  You want to see Prasant's face?  Then look!  Feast your eyes; glut your soul on my cursed ugliness!"

            "But Prasant-"

            "No!  Say nothing, just look!  Is this what you wanted?  To see the horrid face of your tutor?  You were not content to merely hear my voice, to listen to my music I shared with you?"

            Allison shook her head, confused.  "Prasant!  There's nothing wrong with you!  You're very normal, in fact, you're rather cute."

            "Silence you inquisitive little thing!  I won't stand for your taunting!"  With that, Prasant dropped to his knees, shielding his face from Allison with his cape.  He began to grope along the floor for his mask.

            Allison watched him, perplexed.  After a moment, she slid the mask to him with her foot.  He snatched it up quickly and promptly replaced it on his face.

            "Oh Allison, how you have hurt me!  So long as you thought me handsome, you would have returned to me-"

            "But Prasant, I do think you're-"

            "No!  Say no more, I cannot listen.  Just know that my love for you can never be distracted!"  He said, caressing the side of her face gently.  "But alas!  We must return - those two fools who run my clothing store will be missing you."

Chapter Four


	5. Prasant 4

Chapter Four

            "I saw him one night while I was taking the clothes from the dressing room.  He was rather tall and thin.  He wore a black cape and hat.  I thought he was a customer at first, but then he turned towards me and I knew!"

            "What?  Who was it?"  The crowed of excited TJ Maxx employees urged.

            "It was the Prasant Ghost!"  Taylor exclaimed.

            The workers cried out in both fear and delight.

            "Yes!  I saw him!  He stood before me in all his wretchedness!"

            "What did he look like?"

            "Oh, it was horrible!  His dark flesh was stretched over his bony face!  His eyes were so far sunken into his head that they were barley visible.  And his teeth . . . they protruded gruesomely from his thin, shriveled lips!"

            A gasp raced through the crowed.

            "Yes, it was horrible.  He stalks this very store, even now!  He lives beneath it in the underground storage rooms.  He has many secrete entrances and trap doors that lead down to his lair.  But be forewarned!  If you should make the mistake of traveling into one of these passageways, he'll hang you for sure!"

            "Silence!"   Came a stern voice from behind Taylor and his audience.  

            They turned to see Tiffany standing with her hands on her hips.

            "You would do well, Taylor, to hold your tongue.  The Prasant Ghost's secrets are his own."

            "Hush you silly girl!  You want to ruin my story?"  Taylor said, upset.

            "And a story is exactly what it is!  You don't know any of that nonsense to be true.  Take my advice and refrain from telling these lies!"  Tiffany wagged a serious finger in Taylor's direction.

            At that moment, Mrs. Brock and Ms. Johnson walked by, overhearing the tail end of their conversation.

            "These rumors are getting out of hand," Mrs. Brock said as Ms. Johnson unlocked the door to the office.

            "Yes, never have I heard such twaddle as this ridiculous _Prasant Ghost!_"  Ms. Johnson agreed, walking into the office.  She stopped suddenly, nearly causing Mrs. Brock to collide with her.

            "FYI . . ." Ms. Johnson began slowly.  "There seems to be an odd letter sitting on the desk that wasn't here before."

            Mrs. Brock rolled her eyes.  "Great!  Wonderful!  Let's see who it's from, shall we?"

            She shoved Ms. Johnson aside and strode over to the desk.  She picked the letter up and examined it.  

_To the Managers_

            The words were printed neatly on the envelope.  Mrs. Brock ripped open the letter to reveal a note written entirely in red ink.   It read:

_Dear Managers: _

_Due to the unfortunate events of only a few nights previous, and also to your wise decision-making, Allison was placed in the fitting rooms.  I needn't tell you of the triumph she experienced in this position as it was spoken of throughout the store for many days following.  Alas, her glory did not last as you rather foolishly decided to replace her the subsequent evening with Meme.  I mean not to directly assault Meme's skill or your intelligence, but it is widely known that she is not only rude, but also quite unable to attend to the dressing rooms in the proper manner.  My request is simple and logical; Meme is to be replaced permanently by Allison.  IF YOU WISH TO LIVE IN PEACE, YOU MUST NOT BEGIN BY DENYING MY REQUESTS._

_Signed, Your Most Humble and Obedient Servant, _

_Prasant Ghost__. _

            The two managers were silent for a moment after reading the unpleasant letter.

            "What sort of bad joke is this?"  Ms. Johnson demanded.  "Who would have the audacity to play such a trick?"

            "Perhaps it was that Taylor fellow, the one who was telling those absurd tales to the other employees."  Mrs. Brock offered.

            "No, no.  He doesn't have the vocabulary or the courage to write such a letter."  Ms. Johnson shook her head.

            "Travis then?  Or perhaps Grant?"

            "Highly doubtful."

            "Well, whoever it is, they seem to have quite an interest in that little Allison Kindle."

            "Yes, yes they do."  Ms. Johnson replied dryly. "FYI, she has built up quite a reputation as of late."  

            "Indeed she has, but reputations are easily attained here."  Mrs. Brock observed.

            Ms. Johnson laughed sardonically.  "Yes, after all, you know as well as I do that you haven't the faintest clue when it comes to fashion, and yet, you are accredited with your knowledge of it!" 

            Mrs. Brock frowned at Ms. Johnson's comment.  "Yes, well, I believe I'll take my leave early this evening.  See you tomorrow and _do_ be careful of that dreadful Prasant Ghost!"  She jested as she exited the office.

            The next night, after completing a seemingly endless amount of paperwork, Ms. Johnson decided to quickly check all areas of the store.  She casually observed the employees performing their final closing duties as she made her rounds, but stopped when she reached the fitting room.

            The two managers had decided to ignore "Prasant Ghost's" demands and left Meme in the dressing rooms.  Though Ms. Johnson thought the letter to be little more then a childish prank, she couldn't help but wonder weather there had been any mishaps that night.

            "Everything run smoothly tonight, Meme?"  She asked, walking into the fitting room.

            "Yes, fortunately."  Meme said as she swept the floor.  "You've made sure to fix this accursed rack, haven't you?"   She gestured to the clothing rack behind her.

            "Yes, of course.  You needn't worry about any other _mysterious happenings._  Mrs. Brock and I have found the prankster."

            "Good."  Meme said, returning to her duty at hand.  After a moment she spoke again.  "Did you say something?"

            "Why, no," Ms. Johnson said, slightly shocked, for she too thought she heard a voice.  "Well, I don't mean to keep you-"

            Both women stopped suddenly when they heard another peculiar noise.  

Ms. Johnson smiled and shook her head.  "Rats."

            Meme frowned, but nodded as well.  The two women stood silent for a moment, unsure weather they were merely hearing things, or there was, in fact, a sound of struggling coming from somewhere near.

            "Do you . . ." Ms. Johnson began to nod even before Meme could finish her question.

            "I believe you've done quite enough in here for one night.  Shall we leave?"  Ms. Johnson tried to hide the uneasiness in her voice.

            "Yes, yes, let us leave."  Meme hastily agreed.

            They took each other's hands and began to back out of the dressing room slowly, still hearing the strange, choking noises all around them.  Though they took hesitant steps back, they stopped short of exiting when they bumped into something in the doorway.  The two spun around but instantly fell back and shrieked in horror.  

There, hanging in the doorway, swung the limp, lifeless body of Taylor.

Chapter Five


	6. Prasant 5

Chapter Five

            The summer was sadly drawing to a close, and for many TJ Maxx employees, school was just beginning.  Allison, though continuing to work, had returned to the daily grind of Brentwood High School as well.  

After being rudely shaken from her strange summer of fanciful illusions, Allison went about her work with a dull listlessness.  Had all the unexplainable events merely been figments of her imagination?  Ever since the treacherous proceedings of the dressing room, all had grown quiet and it seemed the mysteries had been forgotten.

Allison tried to forget them as well, but often found her mind wandering back to her tutor, her mystifying Angel.  The music he made for her played continuously in her mind when she was not listening to the few CD's he had given her.  Her heart ached for something deep, something tragic.  In her effort to subdue the longings, she sought out a source of comfort and reassurance.  She found it in Will.  

The two would hold one another in lengthy, warm embraces, whispering soft and affectionate encouragements.  Friends, notably Dana and Amanda, would often feel alienated from the two as they seemed to inhabit a world solely their own.

Was this love?  Allison did not know, dared not question.  She feared the tranquility she found with Will would be shattered the moment she did.

Soon, it seemed as if the two were all but inseparable.  They would bask in each other's presence not only in the hallways of school, but also in their homes.

To Will, the situation was ideal.  Allison filled him with a sort of joy that he could only find with a woman.  Though there were others, she was by far his favorite.  Her devotion and willingness delighted Will so, he was content to keep their relationship innocent.  A loving 'Have a nice day,' was all that was required to provide an instant and gratifying fill to both of their needs for affection.

The managers of TJ Maxx were finding such peace-of-mind as well. 

 Following the tragic death of Taylor, Allison had promptly replaced Meme in the fitting room.  No one, including Meme herself, objected to the arrangement.  In fact, she was all too eager to escape the frightful events of the summer.  And so, three days a week, Allison worked the dressing room with her inexplicably gained expertise and nothing more was heard from the Prasant Ghost.  This led the managers, employees, and Allison alike to be lured into a blissful sense of naive safety.  That is, until Allison found a letter sitting on the desk in the dressing room.  When she picked it up and saw her name printed on it in red ink, she caught her breath.  Biting her lip, she gingerly opened the envelope and read the note.

_Dearest Allison,_

_It has been many months since our last dreadful encounter, but I can only hope it did not deter you from me.  You must forgive me for my absence and my silence, for I have been caught up in my studies at MTSU, but not for much longer!  My classes will be drawing to a close soon and I will return to you, my beloved Allison, the only light in my dismal existence.  If you only knew how my heart aches when you are not near!  Please Allison, do not reject me when I return, for you are all I live for!  Regrettably, I cannot give you a definite date of my homecoming, but when I arrive, I shall seek you out in the dressing rooms._

_With all of my love,_

_Prasant_

The letter left Allison with a feeling of extreme uneasiness, but at the same time, a rush of excitement.  She did not know her true feelings for Prasant or Will, but she could not deny the heart-wrenching tug from either side.

The note weighed heavily on her mind for many days afterwards.  Particularly at work, whenever she heard a noise or saw a movement out of the corner of her eye, she always expected Prasant to be there, waiting to take her away.

            One night, when Allison's demeanor was especially unsettled, Will paid her a visit just before TJ Maxx closed for the evening.  She was more than delighted to see him, as he seemed to have a soothing effect on her nerves.  She happily chatted with him among the few remaining shoppers and ever-present staff.  She laughed at Will's wit and told him of her night, the troubling letter slowly slipping from her mind, when he suddenly grasped her by the wrist.

            "I wish to speak with you alone."  He said, becoming curiously serious.

            Allison laughed lightly.  "Whatever for?"

            "There's something I need to tell you in private.  Where can we speak alone?" He asked her gravely.

            Allison held his gaze for a moment before smiling playfully.  "Come with me," 

The two dashed hand in hand towards the back of the store.  They entered a stairwell and made their way upwards to the roof, unaware of the silent shadow that followed them.  

They burst through the rooftop door, laughing and out of breath, into the crisp night air of fall.  Will drew Allison close as they walked across the gravel, pausing to gaze out over the twinkling lights of Brentwood.

            "Allison," Will turned to face her.  "Do you know how much your friendship means to me?"

            "Of course I do!"  Allison said, still smiling.

            "Then you know I would never do anything to upset it," He said steadily.

            Allison shook her head.  "What are you trying to say?"

            "The past few months have been glorious for us both, but only recently have I come to realize how strongly I feel for you."

            Allison's smile faded.  "Will. . . I-"

            "Don't say anything Allison, just listen."  Will said, gazing intensely into her eyes.  "I find that I'm happiest when I'm with you.  You're so wonderful, so unique and understanding . . . I've never been with a girl like you before.  I want us to grow closer, unbound by an awkward, unspoken barrier.  We should be free to express our true desires-"

            "Will, stop, please . . ."

            _Stop . . . _a voice echoed behind her.

            "What was that?"  Allison glanced over her shoulder, startled.

            Will shook his head.  "I heard nothing.  Please don't try to change the subject, this is very important."

            "Will," Allison breathed nervously.  "I fear what you are trying to say."

            "Don't fear it, Allison, for it is only love!"

            _Love . . ._  

            "There it was again!  A voice . . . Will, we should leave . . ."

            "No, Allison, you must hear what I have to say!"  He grabbed her firmly by the shoulders.  "My heart skips a beat every time I see you.  I become overwhelmed with a feeling of zealous joy!  I want our relationship to grow, Allison.  Do you see what I'm trying to say?"  

            Allison whimpered as she remembered the same determination and devotion she had once heard in another man's words, a man who was, she was beginning to fear, very near.  

            "Allison, I want you to be my girlfriend!"

            _GIRLFRIEND!_  The voice, now full of fury, erupted from behind them.

            "Will!"

            The two fell into each other's arms and fled down the stairwell, their backs turned to the figure, which was Prasant, that leapt from behind an air-conditioning unit.

            "Oh Allison!"  Prasant cried, a long cape fluttering furiously behind him in the sudden gust of wind.  "How you have betrayed me!  I gave you my CD's, my heart, my very _soul_, and this is how you repay me?"

            Prasant fell to his knees, burying his masked face in his hands.  "You allow that buffoon, that _Canadian_, to take you selfishly from me!  Oh Allison, I shall surely die . . ."

            Prasant sobbed miserably on the silent rooftop, but then jerked his head up suddenly.

            "Though perhaps, it is not I who shall die . . ." A wicked smile spread across his face.  "No, not I, but he!  Yes, he shall die for stealing you away from me!"

            A crazed laugh emitted from Prasant's throat.   "Revenge will be mine!"

Chapter Six


	7. Prasant 6

Chapter Six

            "What was that?"  Will asked as the two sought refuge under the florescent lights of the store.

            Allison buried her face in Will's chest, wishing she could deny the truth of her betrayal. 

            "It was him . . ." She said, the words catching in her throat.  "Prasant,"

            "Prasant?"  Will asked, perplexed.

            "Yes, my tutor."  Allison uttered, the pain evident in her voice.

            "Your tutor?  You mean, the voice in the dressing room?"  The connection was beginning to dawn on Will.

            "Yes!  Oh Will, it's all so dreadful; I don't know what to think anymore!  It's as if I've lost all reason."

            "Don't worry; on my honor, I will never let any harm come to you."  Will said, wrapping his arms around her.

            They held each other for a tender moment before Allison pushed away.  "We mustn't linger, so long as _he's_ here, we'll never be safe."

            The two walked slowly but cautiously towards the front doors amidst the mass exodus of employees who were leaving for the night.    Allison's heart felt as if it were splitting in two as she exited through the doors, but the only emotion she truly understood was the need to escape the confusion and uncertainties that seemed to plague her within the walls of TJ Maxx.  By merely walking through the doorway, pressed closely to Will, she knew she was choosing her fate.  Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to push away the true question; was it really with Will that her future lie?

            As the crowd emerged through the doors and began to disperse onto the sidewalk, a wretched laugh full of hatred and demented pleasure came from the heavens.  All turned to look upwards to see one corner of the massive, illuminated TJ Maxx sign suddenly give way.  Before anyone could react, the sign swung down with a painful moan, tearing the remaining corner from the façade of the building.

            Instinctively, Will threw himself at Allison, pressing her firmly against a column with his body as the huge sign came crashing downwards.  In a moment of blind confusion and horror, all one was able to make out was the terrified cries of the employees and a furious explosion which threw electrical sparks about as if they were fireworks on New Years Day.

            After several moments, Will opened his eyes only to find Allison had vanished from beneath him!  Stepping backwards, and nearly stumbling over a large piece of the now shattered letters of the sign, Will looked about, aghast.

            "Allison!"  He cried, "Not again!"

            The distorted music pulsed thickly in the air like a heart beat with no decipherable point of origin.  Only a moment before, Allison had been wrapped safely in Will's arms, but now she found herself enveloped in inky blackness.

            "Allison," The voice of Prasant spoke from very near.

            She jumped when an arm wound itself around her shoulders and a deathly cold hand took hold of her own.  She was forced to swallow the lump that now rose in her throat as she was led downwards through the darkness. 

            "Will!"  Tiffany shouted.  She picked her way through the wreckage towards Will, who was searching in vain for Allison.

            "Will, I know where they are."  She grabbed him by the arm.

            He turned to face her, desperation etched deep in his features.  "Then you must tell me!"

            "No, follow me, I'll take you there."

            Tiffany headed for the doorway, but Will did not follow.

            "How can I trust you?"

            Tiffany glanced over her shoulder and then made her way back to Will's side.

            "It was when I was first employed here," She began in a hushed voice.  "I followed him into the dressing room-he had a secrete entrance into the store rooms through a mirror-"          

            "The mirror!"  Will exclaimed, his hand moving towards his nose.

            Tiffany nodded.  "Yes, but I saw too much . . . It's fortunate that I even escaped!"

            "Then you will help me?"  Will pressed.

            "I cannot stand by and watch any more injustice by the monster's hand- come, I'll take you to her."

             Allison's body trembled violently, though from what it was impossible to tell.  She was overcome by powerful, yet utterly confusing emotions.  

            "Don't be frightened, Allison."  Prasant took her hand as they stepped lightly into the boat on the still lake.  His voice was calm and soft, a far cry from the horrible laughter she had heard only moments before.

            Once they crossed the lake and entered his domain, Prasant turned to face Allison.  His eyes gazed sadly at her through his mask.

            "I could have given you anything. . ."  He began.

            "Prasant, forgive me, I-"

            "No, there's no need to apologize.  I understand completely.  Your heart belongs to another."

            Allison dropped her head, trying to fight back her tears.

            "How happy we could have made each other!  Oh, the music we could have shared . . . Don't you see Allison?  You and I are perfect for one another!  I knew this from the first moment I saw you, the forlorn beauty at the cash register.  As I taught you all the secretes of the dressing room, I knew that we must be together!"  Prasant stepped towards Allison, his hands locked together as if pleading.

            "I'm tired of all this," He gestured widely to his surroundings.  "I want to live like a normal man, I want someone to love and to be loved in return.  Alas, Allison, I want a girlfriend!"

            Allison shook her head in frustrated puzzlement.  "Oh Prasant, if only I could make you see!"

            "But my dear, I see all quite plainly- you choose to flirt with that pompous Canadian _pimp_ rather then be with the one who truly loves you!"  

            "That's not it at all-"

            "Oh no?  I saw the way you two gazed lovingly into each other's eyes . . . the way you tenderly caressed one another .  . A thing I shall never know, due to this!"  Prasant ripped away his mask and pulled Allison close to his face.  "But how can one honestly blame you?  Would you not rather be with a seductive foreigner than this grotesque carcass?"  Prasant wailed.

            "Stop!"  Allison exclaimed suddenly, stepping back.  "You claim to possess all the ugliness of Quasimodo, but you look just as normal as the next person!  I don't understand what it is that possesses you to think you are so hideous!  Listen to me when I say _you are HOT!_"

            Prasant grasped his chest in agony.  "How you mock me!  In all my nineteen years I've never known the true love of a woman!  What, other than this horrid face, could cause me to be neglected in such a sad and lonely manner?"

            Allison stifled a scream while clutching at the sides of her head in frustration.  "Look in the mirror for God's sake!  Can't you see how attractive you are?"  Allison's tone softened.  "Do you think I would lie to you?  You're skin, it's so beautiful and dark . . ."

            "A nauseating shade . . ."

            "You're arms, like a god's!" 

            "Thin and weak . . ."

            "Oh Prasant, you're just so . . . perfect-" Allison stopped as it suddenly became evident to her that all she said was, in fact, her true feelings.  She bit her lip as she felt her heart swell.  It was no longer possible to ignore her deep, and until this moment, unknown longings.

            She took a step towards him, reaching out her hand.  She was no longer blinded by her fear or confusion.  She knew what she wanted.

            Just then the door of the secrete lair was flung open.  The two whirled around to see Will standing there, sopping wet and gasping for breath.


	8. Prasant 7

Chapter Seven

            "It seems as if we have a guest."  Prasant commented dryly.

"Allison!"  Will gasped.  "I've come to rescue you!"

"Will . . ." Allison's heart caught in her throat, but she made no movement.

"Rescue her from what?"  Prasant spat, stepping in front of Allison.  "Did you honestly think I would harm her?"

            "Can't you see she does not love you?"  Will took a step towards Prasant, whom he was several inches taller then and proved quite intimidating.  "You dragged her down here against her will, you monster!  Whatever horrible deed it is you plan to do, I cannot allow!"

            Prasant gazed up at Will with fury in his eyes.  "Oh?  And do you believe she loves you?  Is it now your responsibility to be her savior?"

            "Yes!"  Will shouted, taking another step forward.  "She requested it of me!  I gave my word to protect her from _you_!"

            "She came to me willingly!"  Now Prasant took a stride towards Will until each could feel the other's hot breath on their face.

            "Impossible!  She's frightened by your sheer lunacy!"

            "She admires my genius, you ignorant oaf!"

            "She admires my body, you puny little scab!"

            "She detested your body with all it's foreign stench!"

            "Your mom!"

            "How dare you curse my mother!  I ought to kill you right now!"

            "I'd like to see you try, weakling!"

            "With great pleasure!"

            Their hands shot simultaneously towards each other's neck when Allison suddenly thrust herself between them.

            "Stop this!"  She yelled with such authority that the two dropped their hands immediately.

            "You're behaving like children!  How can either of you presume to know what I want?"

            With chests heaving in anger, the two glared at each other over Allison's head.

"You've already told me what you want."  Will grabbed Allison by the arm and pulled her towards him, keeping his hateful stare on Prasant.

"No, Will . . ." Allison felt smothered in his embrace.

Prasant took a step back and watched with shock.  "Allison . . ."

"I-I-" Allison stammered, once again unable to trust her emotions.

Prasant took another step back, his hand on his chest.  "But Allison, what about the fitting rooms?  The music?"  His voice was weak with heartbreak.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking she could ever love something as pathetic and warped as you!"  Will spat coldly.

As Will turned Allison towards the exit, she saw Prasant reach out towards her, but say nothing.

            "Come, I'll take you back to where you _really_ want to be."  Will led her slowly through the doorway and into the small boat.

            As he rowed across the lake, Allison could see Prasant fall to his knees in his now empty apartment.

            "Allison," He cried, his voice full of heart-wrenching despair.  "I love you!"

            Allison caught her breath and buried her face in her hands.  What could she possibly blame her unfeeling actions on now?  Her stomach twisted in a knot as she realized she would be forced to choose between the two people she cared most about.

            "Will," Her voice shook as he pulled her from the boat.  "I-I can't do this."

            "What do you mean?"  He asked, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders.

            Allison looked down at her feet, unable to meet his penetrating gaze.

            "I can't be with you."

            Will was silent for a long moment until Allison was forced to look into his face.  When she saw his brow furrowed deep, struggling to accept what she said, she continued. 

            "You're friendship has truly been a blessing.  There is not, and will never be a day when I'm not thankful for you, but you must understand-I cannot be with you."

            "You-you do not love me?"  Will's voice was broken and panicked. 

            Allison gently placed her hands on either side of Will's face and kissed him lightly on the forehead.  When she pulled away, she looked deep into his tear-filled eyes and smiled sadly.  "You have been one of my dearest of friends.  I shall never forget you." 

            With that, she turned and stepped into the boat.  As she began to paddle away, she saw Will standing helplessly on the shore.   

            "But Allison . . . You were my number one . . ." He uttered in the most sad and desperate tone he had ever managed.

            Allison watched his figure until it faded away into the darkness.  

When the nose of her boat made contact with the stairs, she bit her lip and stood.  Glancing up at the doorway, still illuminated with the comforting, yellow light, she resolutely ascended the staircase.  There was no turning back now.  She had caused too much pain before finding her own heart, and now she was sure of where it was leading her.

            Peering around the doorway, she saw Prasant sitting miserably on the floor in the middle of the room.  His head was cradled in his arms, which were resting on his knees.

            Allison stepped into the room, breaking the cold silence.  Prasant raised his head.

            "Allison?"  He asked, half-heartedly.  He looked over his shoulder, and upon seeing her, leapt to his feet.  "Allison!"

            The two stared at each other for an awkward period, unsure of what their next movement would be.

            "You've come back?"  Prasant said at last, his voice hopeful.

            Allison could not longer contain herself.  She rushed towards him with tears of joy running freely down her cheeks.

            "Oh Prasant!"  She breathed, falling into his arms.  "It's you I love, no one else!"

            Prasant stood stiff with surprise in her embrace.

            Allison looked him directly in the face, her heart swelling with happiness.  There was no mistaking her feelings now.  Slowly, she pressed herself close to his body.  Their noses touched, their cheeks caressed.  Her lips moved ever closer to his until at last they met in a passionate kiss that locked all the world between them.  All doubts and fears were instantly wiped away in their loving embrace that knew no mortal limits.

            "How could I have been so blind," Allison whispered into Prasant's ear as they drew apart.  

            They existed now in a universe made solely for them.  Nothing could ever interfere with their love.

             "Come away with me, Allison."  

            "To where?"  She asked, though she wondered if it even mattered.

            "MTSU."  Prasant replied soundly.  "It's everything you could desire in a college . . . And we'll be together there."

            "Just you and I . . ." Allison repeated dreamily.

            Prasant smiled and brushed her cheek lightly with the back of his hand.  "Yes, just you and I."

            Swooning in the sheer ecstasy of each others being, they walked unhindered by earthly concerns into the light.  They were together, at last, in a world of their own.

**********

Main


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